Mallory Verses The Neighborhood Association
by Red Witch
Summary: Mallory just doesn't get along with her neighbors.


**Once again Mallory did something to the disclaimer telling you that I don't own any Archer characters. Just some more thoughts from my tiny little mind.**

 **Mallory Verses The Neighborhood Association **

"And where the hell have **you** been?" Mallory Archer snapped at her husband as he walked into their home one afternoon. "I came home and you weren't here!"

"I just saw you pull your car in a minute before I did," Ron told her. "You weren't waiting that long!"

"That is beside the point," Mallory glared at him. "Where the hell were you?"

"I was out all afternoon," Ron told her as he took off his hat and jacket. "At the track."

"Oh, how productive!" Mallory sneered sarcastically. "My husband losing our money gambling!"

"In the first place," Ron gave her a look. "It's **my money**. That I earned with **my savings** and company that I busted **my hump** for over forty years. Secondly, all the money I've lost in **five years** isn't half as much as you've lost in the first **five months** since we got to California!"

"Look I already have a son in the hospital," Mallory snapped. "I'd just like to know where my husband is!"

"What do you think I do all day?" Ron snapped. "Sit around and wait with baited breath for you to grace me with your presence?"

"Well the least you could do is not go out and gamble!" Mallory snapped.

"What else am I **supposed** to do Mallory?" Ron snapped. "I can't go into the office because it's across the freaking country! As well as all my friends and all my old hangouts! I miss my crew! God help me I even miss the people that work for me! Even Crazy Larry. At least his dog getting hit by a car once a week stories were entertaining."

"I'll trade you," Mallory grumbled. "Sight unseen. Your people for mine."

"Nooooooooope," Ron shook his head.

"Damn it," Mallory grumbled.

"You know I don't always gamble when I go to the track," Ron snapped. "Sometimes I just go and watch the races. Hang out at the bar with other people."

"Why?" Mallory asked.

"Because unlike you, I actually **enjoy** other people's company," Ron glared at her. "I'd love to invite people over but I can't. Not only have you alienated the entire neighborhood, the last time we invited people over they were assassins!"

"How is that my fault?" Mallory growled. " **You're** the one who invited them to dinner and they nearly killed us!"

"You're the one who made me help bury their bodies underneath the foundation of the Hendersons' pool," Ron snapped. "Before they poured the concrete in! It was like a scene out of a gangster movie!"

DING DONG!

"Who could that be?" Ron blinked.

"Well there's this new invention Ron," Mallory said sarcastically. "It's called a window. You can use it to see who's there."

"One of these days I'll toss **you** through a window…" Ron muttered under his breath as he looked. "It's Mrs. Goldberg and two other neighbors."

"Oh great," Mallory muttered under her breath. "What the hell does that busybody want?"

"Please try to be nice," Ron pleaded.

"When am I not?" Mallory asked.

Ron did a double take. "You're joking, right?"

Mallory opened the door and looked at the three well-dressed older women on her doorstep. "Mrs. Goldberg. Mrs. Kensington. Mrs. Henderson. To what do I owe the **pleasure**?" Her tone indicated it was anything but.

"Ms. Archer…" Mrs. Goldberg, a light blond older woman in a pink suit told her. "The Neighborhood Association had a meeting last night."

"I wasn't informed of such a meeting," Mallory said calmly.

"Well considering the meeting was about **you** and all the citations you've racked up I'm not surprised," Mrs. Henderson, remarked. She was wearing a blue suit and had short blonde hair. "Not that you have ever bothered to show up to any other meeting in the first place…"

"Citations?" Mallory snapped. "For **what**? What the hell have I done to tick you biddies off?"

"Well for starters," Mrs. Goldberg remarked. "We've had a few complaints about the noise."

"What noise?" Mallory snapped. "What kind of dumb ass charge is that?"

"Your swearing for one," Mrs. Kensington sniffed. She had dyed light brown hair and was wearing a light blue conservative outfit. "It's like living next door to a sailor."

"Ever hear of freedom of speech, bitch?" Mallory snarled.

"As well as the fights between you and your husband," Mrs. Goldberg went on. "Which could be heard down the block!"

"She provokes me!" Ron pleaded. "I have to fight with her. For survival."

"Then there was the incident with your son a few months back," Mrs. Goldberg glared at Mallory.

"How is anything Sterling does my fault?" Mallory snapped.

FLASHBACK!

"FOR THE LAST TIME!" Archer stormed out of his mother's house one night. "MY DAUGHTER IS NOT FAT! THE ONLY THING FAT AROUND HERE IS YOUR **HEAD!** "

"WELL EXCUSE ME FOR TRYING TO PROTECT MY GRANDDAUGHTER FROM DIABETIES AND GOUT!" Mallory shouted back as she stormed out.

"How would you know about protecting **any child**?" Archer snapped. "You didn't exactly do a bang-up job protecting me!"

"Keep your voice down!" Mallory hissed. "You want to disturb the neighbors?"

"Maybe I **do?** " Archer snapped. "They should be warned what kind of person you are!"

"Trust me, Sterling," Ron was heard from the house. "They know."

"Shut up Ron!" Mallory snapped.

"LISTEN UP NEIGHBORS!" Archer shouted. "HEY! NEIGHBORS! LISTEN! MY MOTHER DIDN'T RAISE ME RIGHT BECAUSE SHE WAS TOO BUSY WHORING AROUND TO TAKE CARE OF ME!"

"I WAS WORKING!" Mallory snapped. "AND MADE SURE YOU WERE CARED FOR!"

"BY A BRITISH HALF-CRAZY HEROIN JUNKIE!" Archer shouted. "WHO SCALPED TWENTY PEOPLE!"

"IT WAS DURING WARTIME!" Mallory shouted. "DOESN'T COUNT!"

"AS SOON AS I WAS POTTY TRAINED SHE SHIPPED ME OFF TO SCHOOL!" Archer shouted. "OR CAMP! OR WHATEVER STUPID PLACE SHE COULD PUT ME!"

"POTTY TRAINED MY ASS!" Mallory shouted. "YOU WET THE BED UNTIL YOUR LATE TEENS!"

"BECAUSE YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME!" Archer shouted back. "LITTERALLY!"

"I know the feeling," Ron groaned from inside the house.

"WHY BOTHER HAVING A KID AT ALL WHEN YOU DON'T EVEN SPEND ANY TIME WITH HIM?" Archer shouted.

"BELIEVE ME STERLING!" Mallory snapped. "NOT A WEEK GOES BY WHEN I DON'T WONDER WHY I HAD YOU! I USED TO BE PRO LIFE BEFORE I HAD YOU!"

"THE ONLY LIFE YOU WERE PRO ON IS **YOUR OWN**!" Archer snapped.

"HERE HE GOES! MR. DRAMA MAKING HIS BIG SCENE!" Mallory snapped.

"I LEARNED YEARS AGO IT WAS THE ONLY WAY TO GET YOUR ATTENTION!" Archer shouted back.

"GO TO HELL STERLING!" Mallory shouted.

" **YOU** GO TO HELL!" Archer stormed to his car.

"FINE!" Mallory shouted.

"FINE!" Archer snapped. Mallory stormed into her house and slammed the door.

Archer turned on his car but it wouldn't start. He tried again but the car didn't start. After a few more tries he got out of the car and went to the door.

"Mother!" He pounded on the door. "Mother! MOTHER!"

"WHAT?" Mallory shouted as she opened the door.

"My car broke down," Archer groaned. "I need a ride."

"Oh, look who needs his Mommy **now?"** Mallory sneered. "I'd help you Sterling but since I'm **never there** for you…"

"You're going to pull this **right now** , aren't you?" Archer shouted. "THIS IS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT NEIGHBORS! SEE WHAT I MEAN?"

"YEAH WELL MY SON IS A FECKLESS IDIOT!" Mallory shouted. "WHO COULDN'T PICK OUT A DECENT CAR IF HIS LIFE DEPENDED ON IT!"

"DON'T MOCK MY CAR!" Archer snapped. "IT'S A CLASSIC!"

"A CLASSIC EXAMPLE OF THE LEMON LAW!" Mallory shouted.

"That's it," Ron grumbled as he walked by them. "I'm going where there's peace and quiet! Like by the freeway!"

FLASHFORWARD!

"Again," Mallory sniffed. "Not my fault my son is a gaping asshole."

"That's debatable," Ron grumbled. Mallory glared at him.

"That time that ice cream truck appeared in your driveway blaring music?" Mrs. Henderson added.

"Obviously he was lost," Mallory covered.

"I saw you talking to him and go into the van with your husband," Mrs. Henderson glared at her.

"Oh, **that** ice cream truck," Mallory waved. "We hired a limo for our anniversary. There was a mix up at the agency…That was not my fault! It's a shame how mismanaged some car for hire services are. Someone should call the Better Business Bureau."

"Not to mention the strange sounds of either a car backfiring or firecrackers going off," Mrs. Goldberg added.

"That's just me practicing with my gun," Mallory waved. "Sometimes I forget the silencer! I'll remember next time!"

"Which leads to Item Two," Mrs. Goldberg sighed. "The Neighborhood Association is concerned about…Well…"

"You act like a gun toting cowgirl from the old west," Mrs. Kensington sniffed. "Quite frankly I think you're a danger to the neighborhood!"

"I keep my gun for protection," Mallory bristled. "I don't know if you've noticed, but it's not a safe world."

"Especially with **you** on the block!" Mrs. Henderson snapped.

"Name _one time_ I was irresponsible or reckless with my gun!" Mallory snapped. "I bet you can't!"

"Oh really?" Mrs. Henderson folded her arms. "How about the time you shot a bear?"

"I was protecting my property from a wild animal!" Mallory snapped. "That thing could have mauled someone! How is that a **bad thing**? I probably saved your lives when I did that!"

"What were you protecting your property from when you shot some of Mr. Cooper's racing pigeons?" Mrs. Goldberg asked.

"A major mess on my patio!" Mallory snapped. "And Mr. Cooper is in the next neighborhood. Doesn't count! Pigeons should be banned anyway. They are dirty filthy birds."

"You're an expert on filth from the way you talk," Mrs. Henderson sniffed.

"Besides it's not like I ever used it on a person!" Mallory said.

"Oh yeah?" Mrs. Goldberg glared at her. "How about the time…?"

FLASHBACK!

Two well-dressed men were at the door. "Hello, we're here to talk to you about the Lord!"

Mallory pulled her gun out. "If you don't get your Bible thumping asses off my property you can talk to him personally." The men screamed and ran away.

FLASHFORWARD!

"Not to mention when…" Mrs. Goldberg went on.

FLASHBACK!

Mallory was pointing a gun at a man with a Boston Terrier on a leash. "I swear to God if I catch that dog making a deposit on my lawn, I will make a deposit of **lead!** "

"You'd shoot my dog?" The man gasped.

"Of course, I wouldn't shoot your dog," Mallory sniffed. "What kind of monster do you think I am? I'll shoot **you**!"

The man ran away screaming. "That pussy doesn't deserve a purebred," Mallory sniffed.

FLASHFORWARD!

"And then there was the time…" Mrs. Goldberg added.

FLASHBACK!

"You call this a cut lawn?" Mallory shouted at a gardener in front of their house. "I've seen better cuts at a deli run by a blind man!"

"I did the best I could," The man said in an Irish accent.

"Not good enough, Charles Sitting On Your Duff!" Mallory shouted.

"That insult was a little predictable," The Irish gardener told her.

"So is this," Mallory pulled a gun out from her purse and fired a warning shot. The gardener ran for his life. "And you can forget about any potatoes for tips!"

FLASHFORWARD!

"Which leads me to Item Three," Mrs. Goldberg sighed. "Your lawn is an inch and a half above regulation height."

"Why do you think I was threatening the gardener in the **first place?"** Mallory snapped. "And secondly… What did you do? Sneak over to my house in the dead of night and measure it with a ruler?"

"It was the only time I was sure that you wouldn't **shoot at me**!" Mrs. Henderson snapped. "And even then I was afraid for my life!"

"Now you people are just being picky," Mallory snapped.

"Item Four," Mrs. Goldberg went on. "Public nudity!"

"What a couple does in their pool is **private**!" Mallory snapped.

"Not when the hedges aren't high enough to block the view!" Mrs. Kensington snapped.

"Told you that hedge wasn't high enough!" Ron snapped.

"That and the pool party you threw the other day…" Mrs. Goldberg groaned.

"Pool party?" Mallory asked. " **What** pool party?"

"Oh **that** …" Ron winced. "Well uh…See darling one day when you were visiting Sterling, Pam and Cheryl came over and…"

FLASHBACK!

"COWABUNGA!" Pam did a nude cannonball into the pool.

"Polo!" Cheryl laughed. She was swimming nude in the pool. "God Ms. Archer is gonna be so pissed we swam in her pool!"

"She'll be even more pissed when I take a dump in her flowerbed," Pam snickered.

FLASHFORWARD!

"You let those idiots into **my pool?"** Mallory shouted.

"Who **lets** them?" Ron snapped. "They just showed up! You try stopping them without an elephant gun!"

"Now I have to get my pool sterilized for the idiocy strain," Mallory groaned.

"Which leads to Item Five," Mrs. Goldberg groaned. "Public urination and defecation on private property."

"I thought our garden smelled funny after that visit," Ron realized.

"One of your friends was squatting in my flowerbed that day!" Mrs. Kensington bristled.

"Was it Pam?" Mallory sighed. "Because I'm pretty sure she's not fully housebroken."

"The fat blond one with the tattoos on her back?" Mrs. Kensington snapped.

"That's her," Mallory groaned. "And how is that **my fault?** I didn't even know she showed up at my house! Let alone use your garden as a bathroom! It's not like I ordered her to do it!"

FLASHBACK!

"God, I hate Mrs. Kensington," Mallory grumbled as she sat at her desk in the office. She was half drunk. "She thinks she's so important. _I'm Mrs. Alice Kensington. I have a winning petunia garden that everybody loves! I am so special! Blah! Blah! Blah…"_

"Sounds like a bitch," Pam burped. She was drinking too.

"She is," Mallory grumbled. "I would pay for someone to make a mess in her precious flower garden. I mean…an actual mess. As in human waste mess…"

"How much?" Pam asked.

FLASHFORWARD!

"Item Six…" Mrs. Goldberg went on. "Your contribution to the general tone and decline of the neighborhood."

"Don't think we haven't noticed that vandalism has risen ever since you got here!" Mrs. Kensington snapped.

"I don't know what you're implying," Mallory sniffed.

"Really?" Mrs. Kensington snapped. "Let's put aside your friend using my award-winning petunias as a toilet…"

"She's not my friend in **any sense** of the word," Mallory corrected. "She's my employee at best. And she is certainly not the best employee."

"Whatever," Mrs. Kensington snapped. "What about Mrs. Feeney's rosebushes?"

"What about them?" Mallory asked.

"They caught on fire," Mrs. Kensington glared at her. "Two days after you got into a fight with her."

"She stole my parking space!" Mallory snapped. "She saw me pull in and cut me off!"

"So you set her rosebushes on fire in retaliation," Mrs. Kensington sniffed.

"I did not!" Mallory snapped. "Some hoodlum did!"

FLASHBACK!

"He, he, he…" Cheryl giggled as she set some rosebushes on fire one night. "I love these secret arson assignments!"

FLASHFORWARD!

"That was not me," Mallory sniffed. "You have no proof."

"What about all our cars getting scratched and keyed?" Mrs. Henderson snapped. "The day after you insulted everyone at the block party!"

"Vandals," Mallory shrugged. "Not me at all."

"What about my oak tree?" Mrs. Kensington snapped.

"That eyesore?" Mallory snapped. "It was leaving sap all over my car. Not to mention blocking my view."

"Which you complained about constantly," Mrs. Kensington bristled. "And then one weekend I go to visit my sister in Florida. When I got back someone cut it down!"

"And there were reported sounds of a chainsaw in the middle of the night!" Mrs. Henderson shouted.

"Again, vandals," Mallory's shrugged.

"What about the time someone dumped trash all over my lawn?" Mrs. Goldberg snapped.

"Vandals," Mallory denied. "They do use these new things called cars and public transportation."

"Vandals drove into our neighborhood in the middle of the night and dumped trash on our lawns and keyed our cars?" Mrs. Henderson asked.

"That's what they do!" Mallory snapped. "They leave their own neighborhoods which are already trashed and then trash nicer neighborhoods because they're jealous! It's a fact!"

"They also apparently drink a lot of alcohol," Mrs. Goldberg snapped. "Most of it was bottles of scotch, gin and vodka."

"College kids," Mallory didn't miss a beat. "They do it all the time. They dump their empties somewhere else so when their parents pay a surprise business they don't see any evidence. It's a fact. Look it up."

"What about Mrs. Feeney's dinner party?" Mrs. Kensington snapped. "You weren't invited and the very next day her yard was trenched!"

"And I couldn't help but notice that **your tires** were covered in mud the same day!" Mrs. Henderson snapped.

"Have you **driven** in LA recently?" Mallory asked. "Lots of construction and dug up roads. Mud puddles are everywhere."

"Not to mention the mysterious disappearance of the Delmonts," Mrs. Kensington added.

"How are a couple of deadbeats who probably couldn't afford their house and abandoned it **my fault?"** Mallory snapped. "Seriously, you people are grasping at straws here."

"The point is that this neighborhood has barely known a moment's peace since you and your husband moved in almost a year ago!" Mrs. Goldberg snapped.

"You want to talk **peace**?" Mallory snapped. "Ever since I moved to this God forsaken suburb I've been harassed by you and your personal Gestapo over here!"

"You…!" Mrs. Goldberg gasped. "Rude woman you!"

"You think I don't know that you and your little clique over there gossip about me every chance you get?" Mallory snapped. "Clucking like the fat hens you are about how I'm from New York!"

"That explains the attitude," Mrs. Henderson grumbled.

"And you lot aren't exactly perfect!" Mallory snapped. "With your liberal socialism pogroms you hold all the time! You think **that** doesn't disturb me?"

"Are you talking about the children's library fundraisers we hold?" Mrs. Goldberg asked.

"You think I complain about that weird smell Mrs. Henderson's pool gives off?" Mallory sniffed. "But I hold my tongue and say nothing!"

"How would you know what my pool smells like?" Mrs. Henderson snapped. "You've never been invited. It smells fine!"

"I don't know," Mrs. Goldberg frowned. "When you had that pool party last week and I was swimming in the pool. I could have sworn I smelled something rotting. It was faint but…"

"We're not talking about me!" Mrs. Henderson snapped.

"Convenient for you, isn't it?" Mallory asked. "Maybe your pool broke a sewer line?"

"Well you need to clean up your act!" Mrs. Goldberg handed Mallory some papers.

"What the hell are these?" Mallory snapped.

"The fines you need to pay!" Mrs. Goldberg snapped. "Pay them at the end of the month or else!"

"Or else **what?** " Mallory scoffed. "You'll have **another meeting** about me?"

"Yes!" Mrs. Kensington said smugly.

"I don't think that's going to work on her," Mrs. Henderson groaned.

"Damn right it won't!" Mallory snapped. "Compared to Trudy Beekman you bitches are lightweights. Both literally and figuratively. That woman never stops eating."

"You just better watch your step Ms. Archer," Mrs. Goldberg warned.

"Ron where's my gun?" Mallory asked casually.

"Leaving!" Mrs. Goldberg paled as the women left.

Mallory slammed the door. "Wimps. I didn't even need my gun for them!"

"Mallory," Ron sighed. "Don't you think this is a _problem?_ " He pointed to the citations.

"Oh please!" Mallory threw the citations in the trash. "There are **mobsters** I owe money to that I haven't paid. You think I'm going to kowtow to a gaggle of Golden Girl wannabees?"

"But Mallory…" Ron pleaded.

"Relax Ron," Mallory waved. "I've gotten away for paying taxes for over forty years. I think I'll be able to get away with this."

"That's some news for my accountant," Ron groaned.

"That reminds me," Mallory sighed. "I owe Pam fifty dollars."


End file.
